Pointless
by OnnaMurcielago666
Summary: Don't ever argue with Izaya. OC involved


A child stood in between its arguing parents, holding one of each parent's hands as if it could hold the family together. _Doomed to failure._

An elderly woman paying her respects to a grave, whispering sweet nothings to a long-dead love. _A waste of time and effort._

A girl being bullied; children were trying to rescue their kite from a tree, a man begging his girlfriend to come back to him. _Useless, hopeless, futile._

"This town bores me…" You sighed, fiddling with your camera as you looked through the lens for something interesting to observe. You see, you're an avid people watcher. You'll always be the person in every big crowd that lurks in the middle, away from the actual event but near enough to stare at all the others. People in this town had been just so interesting. Key words: **had been**. "I should just go home for the day." You thought out loud, your half-lidded eyes scanning the park for activity through the camera lens and you sighed when you found none. Some park-goers gave you strange looks as they passed, but you brushed them off. _Insignificant._

Suddenly, your favourite vending machine flew into the air and you groaned as the soda spilled from inside.

"There goes **that** idea…" You muttered darkly, getting to your feet and running toward the commotion with your camera tied around your neck. You got into your stride quickly and let your distance-running skills take over until you were at the scene of the action, with the locals fleeing the scene.

A man in a spiffy bartender suit was wielding a trashcan as if it was weightless and charging after a darkly dressed male with a crafty smile. It was hard to make much out of their faces because their varying expressions were so complex, and because they were executing so many parkour moves so effectively quickly.

"IIIZZZZAAAAAYYYYAAA-KKKUUUUNNN!" bellowed the bartender, his hair a mop of wheat-gold with a pair of bluish-purple sunglasses over his eyes.

Flashes of colour appeared easily on the camera, giving him a smeared, but epic, look. The garbage can went flying and you caught shots of it in fast motion, simply holding down the shutter button. In a brief moment of stillness, the rivals squared off against each other, and you took the opportunity to snap as many photos of the duo as you could.

Portraits, full-body, scenes.  
>You got so many you even worried about your camera card filling up.<p>

The stillness ended soon after you switched to a bigger card and you were at it again, occasionally dodging items carelessly flung or cut from the main piece By now, all the civilians were gone, and you were pumped from the adrenaline that watching these two go at each other gave you. _Amazing! Wonderful! Excellent!_

You couldn't help but praise their forms and styles of fighting, even from someone who disapproved of violence, because it was so fluidly graceful.

"JA NE, SHIZU-CHAN~!" exclaimed the slender one cheerily, and your mind took a photograph at the same time your camera did, catching his grin at the right angle so as to give the illusion that he was staring at you. He disappeared into the alley, his grin almost manic, and the blond set down the pole in his hand, trying his best to reinsert it into the hole he'd made.

A sneaky idea popped into your mind and you rushed forward, readying your camera and yelled, "SHIZU-CHAN~!"

He immediately whipped the pole out again and you baseball slid along the road to avoid it. As you both locked eyes, you yelled, "CANDID CAMERA, SHIZU-CHAN~!" snapped a photo of his shocked face, and booked it out of sight. Hopping two walls, clambering over a low roof, and cutting down an alley, you stopped at an intersection and bent over, laughing so hard you were crying.

"I **LOVE** THIS TOWN~!" you shouted gleefully, wrapping an arm around your middle.

"So do I, Shashin-chan, but the people are better…~!" said a voice you realized was the slender, cunning man from before. Looking up through a thin film of tears, you locked your eyes with his, which you realized were vibrantly red, and grinned to mirror his expression.

"'Shashin-chan?'" you repeated, frowning a little at the nickname.

"Yes," he nodded, "Shashin-chan."

"My name isn't Shashin." You told him, forgetting your mirth in order to correct him. You didn't like when people called you names.

"So?"

"So don't call me that."

"Why?"

"Because it's not my name!"

"What's not?"

"Shashin!"

"Nice to meet you, Shashin-chan~!"

"ARGH!" you growled, stomping your foot childishly. "Don't call me that!"

"Then what do I call you?"

"My name!"

"Well, I don't know your name, so I gave you one…~!"

"I'm not a stray pet! I already **have** a name!"

"Right," he smiled, "Shashin~!"

"AAAA!" You yelled out loudly, drawing attention to the two of you. "I give up! You're **impossible**!"

"Actually," he drawled, putting an arm around your shoulders. "I'm Izaya, and I was wondering if you would give me a copy of those photos, Shashin-chan~!" You resisted the urge to face-palm and sighed, ignoring that fact that he, a stranger, had an arm around you.

A girl arguing with Izaya over her name not being what he'd named her and trying to make him see sense. _Pointless._


End file.
